A Difficult Choice
by yaoifangirlHolly
Summary: Syed has a difficult choice to make - the man he loves, or staying true to his religion and his family's wishes. Slash.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Eastenders or any of the characters.**

**Story: My attempt at Syed's perspective when thinking about his feelings for Christian and trying to decide what to do. Slash.**

**Note: This story is not intended to offend Muslims. It is merely my recounting of one man's conflict between his faith and his sexuality. Whilst I cannot understand the issue fully being non religious, I aim to handle the issue with utmost respect and realism.**

I wake, and for a moment there is peace before it all comes back to me in vivid detail. Amira. Christian. And most recently, the therapist.

I groan, and sit up. I don't want to see the therapist today. It's a waste of money for something that isn't working at all. My feelings for Christian, romantic and sexual, are the same as they ever were. I should have known they couldn't simply be scrubbed clean in one session. It would have made things so much easier for me if they could be though.

Christian. My eyes fill with tears as I remember bumping into him at the market. Touching his arm and acting like nothing had even happened between us, even though electric sparks were dancing up and down me as a reminder of how much I missed touching you. And then, I went to your place, under the pretext of sorting out a menu for a party, and told you about the therapy. Told you I was cured.

I lied through my teeth. Being "cured" of this would certainly take the pain away, but I don't want to be cured. I want to walk up to you and kiss you in the middle of the street, crush our bodies together and feel your strong arms around me. I want to be able to do that, and still be a Muslim. Forgive me Allah. But do I really have to choose between you and Christian? Am I not allowed to be happy and in love? I would accept this was merely a test if it was only lust I felt for Christian, but it isn't, it's so much stronger.

I glance at the clock. 6am. Everyone will still be asleep. I could sneak downstairs and pray in peace. I tiptoe down the stairs, and glance at the prayer mats. No. I can't now. I feel like a fake. It wouldn't be fair if I couldn't give Allah my full dedication. My gaze turns to the door. Freedom. Calling to me.

Christian.

I know I'll change my mind when I get there, but I find myself walking to Christian's place. I want to see him so badly, to confirm to myself the depth of my feelings. I hesitate at the door. He won't want to see me. I'm the very last person he'll want to see. After the bull I spouted about being "cured". It'll be the most offensive rubbish he's ever heard, I bet.

Unexpectedly, the door opens on me. Christian. In a t shirt and boxers, with slightly ruffled bed hair. He looks so beautiful that I barely hear his sleepily confused "Syed?"

"S-Sorry, I know it's early – "

"Come in," he murmurs, holding the door open. I step inside before he changes his mind. He walks over to the counter, and opens the fridge. I watch him pour orange juice, trying to form the right words in my mind.

It comes out more messily than I had intended. "I'm sorry, I'm really sorry." He turns back to me, taking a drink. He seems to be listen, so I hurry on. "The therapist I'm seeing, it's not working at all, though I tried so hard, it isn't working, and I don't really want it to work." He's put the glass down, and is staring at me in a way that is making me more emotional than I like. "Because I love you."

"Syed, look – "

"No!" I interrupt forcefully. "Let me finish, please? I-I choose you Christian. I want to be with you. I've thought about it and even though I keep going in circles..." I realise I've taken a step towards him without thinking about it. "I can't deny these feelings. And if they're this strong, I don't think it's possible to deny them, even if it isn't Allah's will."

I look back up to see Christian is smiling. He walks over to me. Slides his hand down my arm to take my hand in the way he used to, the way that makes my heart race. "Do you really mean it? Because I don't think I could take another rejection from you, Syed."

"Yes, I do."

He pulls me tightly into his arms and I inhale his scent as deeply as I can, all zingy orange juice and bed mixed with his natural scent. "I love you," I murmur into his ear, unable to fight it any longer.

"I love you too," I hear him say, and that's when I know that no matter how much my family throw at us, we'll be able to handle it. I can face it, with him by my side.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Eastenders or any of the characters.**

**Story: My attempt at Syed's perspective when thinking about his feelings for Christian and trying to decide what to do. Slash.**

**Note: This story is not intended to offend Muslims. It is merely my recounting of one man's conflict between his faith and his sexuality. Whilst I cannot understand the issue fully being non religious, I aim to handle the issue with utmost respect and realism.**

We walk back to my house holding hands. Already I dread my parents reactions and I am so glad Christian is here with me. Someone to be on my side. I open the door, and walk in, him just behind me. My mother is doing the ironing.

Immediately, she sees him with me, sees him holding my hand and I realise it does look pretty bad from a Muslim perspective. But she doesn't know how much I've suffered for this.

"No, no, Syed," she begins.

"Mother, listen to me, I love him. The therapy isn't working. It won't work."

"You haven't given it the chance! Don't do this, Syed, I beg you. Don't be led into this, this sin," she says, fixing her eye on Christian, who finally speaks up.

"Zainab, surely you want your son's happiness. He will never be happy if he is forced to deny his true feelings."

"He was perfectly happy until you came along! You led him astray!" she snaps.

"I don't want to be a bad Muslim," I begin, so quietly that both Christian and my mother look at me at once. "I have tried everything to avoid this, mother! I tried to love Amira, I tried to avoid Christian. I even tried therapy! For you! But I just can't keep lying to myself! I love him. I love him."

"And is that your final decision?"

"Yes."

"Then you had better pack your things. You will not bring your sin into this house any longer."

"Zainab – " Christian protests, but I nod.

"I understand."

I pack my things quickly, wondering how it came to this, but determined not to shed any more tears. I hear raised voices downstairs and realise Christian and Zainab are probably arguing. I hurry down to meet Christian, and immediately he takes my hand. "Let's get out of here. There's no reasoning with that woman."

I turn to her one last time. "Mother, I'm sorry – "

"Just go," she shakes her head and I turn, feeling stupefied that I actually have to leave my family, my house.

"I haven't got anywhere to go," I realise aloud, once we're walking up the path together. "I suppose I could rent a place but – "

"Don't be dumb, you're staying at mine," Christian says, dismissing my worries. "That is, unless you don't want to..."

"Really?" I realise in all the drama that I hadn't considered it. "Yes, I mean I'd love to."

He stops me, taking my arm. "You know, I haven't had a chance all morning to kiss you..." He leans in, capturing my lips softly.

An angry cry breaks us off. "Get that filth off my property!" It's Zainab. I sigh, and pick up the luggage I'd let fall to the floor. "Come on, we'd better go before she starts throwing things." Christian smiles a little at the thought, making me smile too.

"Now, how do you like your eggs?" Christian asks me, wrapping an arm around my shoulder.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own Eastenders or any of the characters.**

**Story: My attempt at Syed's perspective when thinking about his feelings for Christian and trying to decide what to do. Slash.**

**Note: This story is not intended to offend Muslims. It is merely my recounting of one man's conflict between his faith and his sexuality. Whilst I cannot understand the issue fully being non religious, I aim to handle the issue with utmost respect and realism.**

Syed

I wake staring at an unfamiliar ceiling before it all comes back to me. I chose Christian. I roll over to slide my arm over his waist and pull him closer to me, snuggling into his back and remember how he made love to me the previous night. No more sneaking around or indecision lingering over it.

The ramifications don't hit me all at once, but are scattered throughout the day. Firstly, the idea that my parents may have disowned me for life, and may force my brother to do the same, but this is the most painful so I try not to think about it too much. I also realise that once the general public find out, I may be barred from the mosque.

I asked Christian last night if we could keep the PDA to a minimum last night when we were in bed and he understood thankfully. It's not going to be easy but I think it's best to keep conflict to a minimum. As much as I want to be able to hold his hand in the street, even to kiss him, I can imagine the kind of drama that would happen were one of my parents, or Amira to see.

Haraam.

I'm going against God's will.

My phone beeps. A text from Christian. My heart skips. It's Saturday so no work for either of us but he went to the gym this morning.

Hey Sy just going to see Lucy and tell her about us (I'll make her promise to be the soul of discretion, don't worry). Want me to get pizza and dvd for a movie night in? Xxx

I feel my face melt into a smile. He's so sweet. I text back in agreement, then my heart sinks as I realise there's something else I have to do.

"Hello?"

"Hello Mark? It's Syed."

"Syed. Are you calling to rearrange your therapy session this afternoon?"

"No, I'd like to cancel it. I won't be having any more therapy." My heart lurches as I say it.

"Are you sure, Syed? I feel we have a lot of ground left to cover."

"It was my parents' idea, not mine," I reply. "I no longer feel that I need it. I mean, I don't want it."

"Very well. I hope everything works out for you."

"Thank you," I manage weakly. The line goes dead, and I place the phone on the counter and bury my head in my hands. Just hearing the therapist's voice brings back our sessions in unpleasant detail. I remember my tears of frustration at myself all too well.

Needing to get out, I decide to go for a walk. I could buy Christian something, a present as an apology for having hurt him. I brighten a little at the idea as I walk into a shop, only to bump into my brother, with a group of friends. He spots me, motions to them to go on, and walks over.

"Syed."

"Tamwar," I manage. "How are Mum and Dad?"

"Not good," he says, half apologetically. "Mum's still upset, and Dad doesn't even want to talk about it. He's been praying a lot." There's a beat of silence. "Are you staying with that guy then? Christian?"

I nod. "I didn't have anywhere else to go," I shrug.

He nods along. "Well, look after yourself." He makes to go.

"Tamwar?" He turns back. "I was just wondering...what you thought of me and Christian?"

"I don't know. I guess...it may be haraam. But I want you to be happy," he finishes.

I watch him go, wondering if I've changed our family forever. But when I get back and see Christian, with a bouquet of flowers as an apology gift I know I've made the only choice I could make to have a chance at being happy.

"Are these for me? What's the occasion?" he says, taking them off me with a smile and placing them on the countertop.

"I wanted to say that I'm sorry. For all the hurt I've caused you," I tell him, as he places his hands on my hips and pulls me closer to him.

"Well I forgive you. Only cause you're so hot though," he teases, leaning in to kiss me.

At that moment, the door bursts open, and we're both jerked out of the moment to see my mother, father and brother at the door.

"What the...?" Christian's quiet exclamation of incredulity is only heard by me stood right next to him, as my mother speaks my name in desperation.

"Syed?"

"Son?" My father echoes her in tone. "It is not enough that you choose this path, but now you are living in sin too?"

"How did you...?" I say.

"Syed, I'm sorry," my brother pipes up. "I let it slip...I didn't realise they were going to do this!"

"You know this is haraam son," my father says quietly.

"Syed, my son, it's not too late to redeem yourself!" My mother protests, striding into the room. "Please come home. Be a good Muslim."

Her last sentence hits my heart like an arrow, I've tried all my life to be a good Muslim. Christian slips his hand into mine.

"Zainab, he has made his choice. You have to accept that."

"You're not thinking straight, you're just upset," she says to me, ignoring Christian. Something in her tone, trying to justify my behaviour, her constant denial of who I am...makes me snap.

"NO!" I yell, so loud that I feel Christian flinch behind me. "I have had ENOUGH of this! All my life I have been a good Muslim. I even planned to marry Amira, told myself that I loved her too, just to fulfil my duties. And now," – my voice breaks, but I have to go on – "now, I am actually happy, and for that I have to suffer?" I feel the tears coming, and turn away.

"Get out." Christian walks over to them as I try to compose myself. "I will not have you coming here to my house, upsetting the man I love. Get out!"

I am surprised to find they leave without a word as I turn back to Christian. He's walking over to me. "Hey, hey, come here," he says, and he puts his arms around me and hold me tight as I break down into tears.

Christian

I watch Syed as he sleeps on the couch. He's obviously emotionally exhausted. I feel anger welling up inside me as I remember all that happened this afternoon. It's no wonder that Syed constantly denied his feelings for me, even when we used to kiss in secret. He'd been told all his life, in no uncertain terms that it wasn't God's will, it was forbidden. Haraam.

I don't want us to have to deal with this every day, it shouldn't have to be this way. We deserve to be together in peace. Unless...

An idea hits me, and I wake Syed up, anxious for him to hear it.

"Uh...Wha?" He sits up, almond eyes widen as he takes me in. "Did I fall asleep?"

I nod. "Sy, listen, I've had an idea. What if you didn't have to deal with your family hassling you all the time?"

He cracks a smile, surprising me. "Christian," he places a hand on my shoulder, pausing for dramatic effect. "I'm afraid that murder is illegal."

"Oh haha." I roll my eyes. "No, what if...what if we moved away? Together? We could get our own place, start afresh."

Syed is silent, he obviously hadn't thought of it. "Together? You and me?"

"That's what I said, dummy." I smile affectionately at him and place my hand over his.

"I think...that sounds perfect," he said, breaking into a grin. I had to lean in and kiss him at that moment, I couldn't wait any longer.


End file.
